In Spite Of Myself - MikuRin
by A Simple RatBird
Summary: He was a musical prodigy. She was an average girl. So when Len died in an accident, it couldn't be him who lost his life that night. It had to be Rin. And she'd do whatever it takes to make that happen. Even becoming the prodigy that died that night. Even becoming the grieving boy that catches a certain blue-haired girl's eye.
1. Prologue

Len Kagamine had always been the 'better one'. No matter how cruel you thought it was to pick favorites, it just seemed irrefutable.

You could marvel over his singing, dancing, or instrumental talents. You could even be talking about common things like his ability to make friends or him simply having a sense of self-confidence, it didn't seem to matter to the energetic young boy. At age 14, he'd already become a popular member of a band, written and sung his own original songs, and amassed a fanbase, all while maintaining consistent 'A's and 'B's in school. A "child prodigy" is what you could call him, someone skilled beyond his years.

Rin Kagamine, his older twin, was no such prodigy. A quieter girl who relied on the support of her close friends and younger brother, she'd only gone to the same school full of talented kids in the first place so that her brother could attend an academy where he could 'thrive', as her parents put it. She could sing, sure, but she never really planned on using her voice for much, except lending it to the light music club every Thursday. And while she did enjoy making music, she'd accepted she'd never quite be what Len was. Besides, wasn't it normal for the younger sibling to get all the attention? Why would her life be different?

He was a talented kid with a bright future. She was an average girl with a musical hobby.

And it'd take the intervention of a God to change that.

"_**LEN!"**_

Rin Kagamine clutched her younger twin in her arms, shaking as a loud sob escaped from her throat.

"_Len, you can't do this!"_

A red wave spread across Len's uniform shirt, sinking into the crisp white fabric.

"_Please_ don't do this!"

Trembling, the boy opened his mouth as if to reply, but could only cough. The red staining his clothes sprayed from his mouth.

"You _have to_ stay with me, _please_ stay with me, Len!"

His skin had already begun to lose its warmth, turning a sickly pale.

"We _need_ you…"

His eyes already looked so empty…

"I-I…please…don't go…"

Rin's voice shook as it faded, dissolving into sobs that wracked her body. She held her brother to her as his heartbeat ceased, leaving his chest empty.

No.

This wasn't right.

_It should've been me, _thought Rin, _me who died from that accident._

If it was her, people wouldn't care. Those who were close to her would mourn the loss of their friend, their daughter, their bandmate, but who else would cry for her?

Len was a different story. People knew him without knowing him. Kids in every class, not just in their school but across the country, would shed tears for him. He was someone they cared about, someone people needed around.

They needed Len.

They didn't need her.

Gently laying her brother's body on the ground, she slid the hair tie off his small ponytail, letting his hair fall around his face.

Grabbing a fistful of her own hair, the color and length matching that of her twin's, she pulled her blonde locks into a ponytail just like his.

_That night, it wasn't Len Kagamine that died._

She gently lowered his eyelids, covering empty lifeless eyes with a façade of sleep.

_No, it was Rin Kagamine that lost her life._

A single tear splashed onto the face of the corpse, for a corpse was all that it was now.

_The boy had only lost his older twin sister._

_The sister that became him._


	2. Chapter 1

"Damn it!"

I landed a swift kick on the locker as it refused to open once again, drawing a few stares from the stragglers in the hallways. They'd be gone before long; the late bell would be ringing throughout the school soon, and I'd be late because I couldn't get my locker open!

I couldn't get _my_ locker open.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a crumpled slip of paper.

"_12-27-14"_

Muttering that string of numbers under my breath, I spun the combination lock around and around.

"12…27…"

My hand slipped, turning the dial way past 14.

A string of curses flew from my mouth, though no one was around to hear them. The hallways were entirely empty, except for me.

"Um…excuse me?"

I turned around and found myself face to face with another student.

"You could put your stuff in my locker if you'd like. There's plenty of extra room."

"I-I…uh, I'm fine!" All I could do was stutter in surprise; I'd thought I was alone. "You don't have to do that…"

"Oh, don't worry! It's fine!" She had already turned to open her locker, just a few down from mine. Pulling it open with a satisfying click, she turned around, pigtails whirling behind her. "Just meet me here after classes so you can pick everything up."

I muttered my thanks, swinging my bag off my shoulder and sliding it into the bottom of the girl's locker. A magnetic mirror had been placed onto the door which she held open for me, and her smiling face looked the same as it did in the pictures that covered the inside. Her and her friends stared at me from the photos, grinning and laughing like they wanted me to join them.

A cold, empty feeling ran through me as a girl in one photo caught my eye, a girl with a white bow resting on top of her short blonde hair. Her blue eyes looked just like mine.

I grabbed my books, turning away to face my classroom door, and pigtail girl closed her locker behind me.

"Um, thanks again, but I—"

"I'm Miku, by the way."

I stopped a few feet from the door to my classroom. Miku stayed silent, waiting for me to introduce myself too, I assumed. She already knew me though. We'd been in the Light Music Club together, and now we were in the same music magnet courses.

"I know."

Turning the doorknob, I pushed open the door to my classroom.

-/3-

I found myself wandering the halls again, only a few hours later. A crumpled hall pass with the word "Bathroom" scrawled on it was clenched in my fist. I didn't really know where I was going, but I knew it wasn't the bathrooms. This time of day seems to be when kids flock there to avoid class, and I'd rather be alone for now.

My footsteps echoed in the empty hallways and I dragged my hand across the wall as I walked, counting the lockers as my hand swept against them.

534, 535, 536…

What hallway had I just turned down?

587…604…639…

What was the number on the door I just passed?

831, 832, 833…

_834_.

My hand fell to my side as I stopped walking and knelt down in front of a pile of flowers, cards, candles, and papers that had fluttered to the ground.

_Oh_.

I raised my eyes to come face to face with a picture of a smiling girl posing for a yearbook photo, which was surrounded by paper flowers that some girl who I barely knew decided to make, sticky notes that talked of "dying too young" and "never being the same now that you're gone", and even other photos, all containing the girl from the yearbook photo in the center.

Glancing at the photo was enough to make me lose it, just like I had been for weeks now.

This was a locker memorial at my old locker. The girl in the photo posed the same way as I had, smiling the same awkward smile, hair held out of her eyes by the same white barrettes.

But I don't look like that anymore. With my hair pulled back and my bangs fluffed up, I look just like the boy in some of the other photos that adorn the locker. The one who should have this memorial at his locker. The one who's really gone.

Because the truth is, Len was the one who died that night. Not me.

He's gone now, and I can't tell anyone. I can't cry with them, I can't talk to them, I can't get through this with them.

It's funny that even though I'm the "popular guy" now, I'm still alone.

"Please come back. I can't take it."

There was a small thud as someone sat down next to me, back against the lockers. Ignoring them, I continued to sit in silence, hugging my knees to my chest and casting my eyes downward. An occasional glance to my left told me that the pigtailed bluenette from earlier was still sitting there, like she was waiting for me.

Though I guess it was strangely comforting.

She sat in silence, sometimes looking at me, other times staring straight ahead like she was pondering something. Finally, I turned to her.

"You're Miku, right?"

"And you're Len Kagamine?"

My voice caught in my throat. I wanted to say no, to tell her it was Rin, her friend, the girl she played with in the Light Music club, the girl on the memorial locker.

"…Yeah. That's me."

I didn't.

"I knew it."

She didn't say it like she was proud of herself, or like she had won a bet. It seemed more solemn then that.

"Hey, I don't mean to be rude, but I've already had my share of strangers-"

She leaned forward, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"Your sister…I was friends with her, y'know."

Her voice was weak, and she cast her eyes downward as she spoke, like even just making eye contract would be enough for her to unravel. After this past month, I was all too familiar with this feeling to not recognize it.

"I know it's not the same as…as losing a sister, but..."

She let her hand fall from its perch on my shoulder back to the ground and raised her head to look me in the eyes. Hers were a shocking electric blue, warped and muddied by the tears forming in them.

"…I just felt like I had to tell you that she cared about you a lot, and…this'll sound stupid and repetitive, but if you ever want to talk…"

My hand met hers on the cold hallway floor, and our fingers laced together.

"…Thank you, Miku."

For the first time in a while, those words actually meant something sincere.

A single tear slid down my face, hitting the back of our interwoven hands.

Authors Note: This fic will most likely be very slow to update; it's a story I'm passionate about for sure, but I've been suffering from apathy/ a lack of motivation in all parts of my life recently, including my writing. To that one reviewer who said they'd be waiting for the next chapter, a very big thank you. Here it is. I hope you like.


	3. Chapter 2

_As cool wind blew by her, Rin kept her feet planted in the road. The wind came not just from the nighttime chill; the cars speeding by her in either direction also stirred up the air around her. Her hair blew in her face, warm blonde strands dulled by the darkness of the night flickered in front of her eyes, making vision almost impossible. She wiggled her foot in place, crushing one of the white barrettes that once kept her long bangs in place. It made a satisfying crunch under her heel as it splintered into little plastic shards. If not for the headlights of the cars passing around her, all would be dark._

_ Closing her eyes, Rin spread her arms out so that they were level with her shoulders, the same way she would if she were to belly-flop into a pool of cold water. "Maybe it'll be just like that," she thought to herself, "a stinging impact pain followed by cool relief."_

_ "RIN!" _

_The voice snapped her out of her daze, and she turned to face the speaker._

"_Rin, we've been looking for you! What are you—" Eyes widening, the boy seemed to realize just what was happening. What Rin was planning to do. He grabbed one of her arms and started to pull her with him, screaming at her to get out of the road, to no avail. In the corner of her eye, Rin could see two beams of light appear not far down the road from her._

_ The boy must've seen them too, for his futile attempts to pull his older sister to safety became more violent. The wind picked up again as the car speed towards them, and yet everything from there seemed to happen in slow motion._

_ The girl now found herself kneeling on the side of the road, hands covered in blood. It seemed that not a single inch of her pale white dress was spared from a deep red seeping into it._

_ Maybe it wasn't slow motion. Maybe everything happened all at once. _

My eyes were wide open as I jolted awake, but the only wind in the air today came from an open window next to my bed, the curtains hanging in front of it fluttering in the breeze. My little brother wasn't dying in my arms; in fact, the closest thing to him right now was his clothes hanging in the closet and his name- "Len Kagamine"—engraved in the plaques, trophies and awards that lined the shelved. Rays of sunlight lit my room, and I wondered how late I'd slept if it was already this light out.

A quick glance at the dormant alarm clock resting on the nearby nightstand told me that at 11:17 I had indeed slept most of the morning away. However, as the dreamy crooning of Mom's violin drifted through the halls, it wasn't hard to guess the time. Mom was playing by now, yes, but not in the living room where she preferred to. This meant that Dad hadn't left for work yet, meaning it was morning, but not early morning.

Rubbing the traces of sleep from my eyes, I threw a hoodie over the old t-shirt I wore to bed and pulled on a pair of socks. The kitchen, where I was headed, and living room are right at the end of the hallway that our bedrooms are in. They aren't separated by anything other then the kitchen countertop, making it easy for my dad to watch TV from where he sat at the kitchen table, dirty plate empty yet sitting in front of him all the same.

As I offered to take it from him, I noticed that once again the table is set for 4 and not 3, which caused my hand to shake as I reached for Dad's plate. I'm sure he set the table this morning. He's been all too forgetful my whole life, even more so recently. Though, a glance at his side of my parent's room would make you think his memory is the least of his problems. Ever since the funeral, we've had to lock him in the bathroom to get him to shower, shave, and take care of himself. The pile of dirty clothes by his side of the bed has only been growing into a festering mess of sour sweat and body odor. I think that was the moment it hit him, the moment he realized that it was real. I wasn't there though, didn't have a mind to leave my room and attend my own funeral, so I couldn't say.

To be honest, just the thought of it makes me sick. People who I was never close with going on and on about how a piece of their lives had been torn from them far too soon. All the while, no one would really be mourning the kid in the casket for who he really was. Thinking of his body being made up to look like a more 'perfect' version of me and stuffed in a cramped little box terrified me. Len was always so claustrophobic.

After a pleasant conversation over frozen waffles, I went back to Len's room to get ready for the day. _My _room. Almost a month has past, but sometimes it's still hard to catch myself.

After slipping into a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt for an artist named 'Neru-P', I pulled my hair back into a small ponytail at the base of my neck, not even bothering to brush my hair. Len's bangs had gravity-defying volume too them, something I could only imitate by leaving my hair wild or consuming suspicious amounts of hair gel. Running my fingers through my hair so my bangs stuck up even more, I decided I was satisfied and went back out into the hall. I mentioned earlier that this hallway has our bedrooms, but it's also where we the bathroom is…and the door to our basement.

When Mom and Dad moved in, the basement was a plain, empty concrete room with a little side area for laundry. Since Mom and Dad both have musical careers, they decided to turn part of the space into a studio of sorts, and it only expanded as me and Len got older and started making music ourselves. Jumping down from the last step of the staircase, I skip over the little corner of the space dedicated to me, with nothing but a microphone and some gray sheets of acoustic paneling foam stuck to the walls, and head over to Len's.

Like my area, his section has a microphone and some foam, but he also had a keyboard, speaker, amp, and sheet music stand. 'Rimi' was written on the top of the keyboard with a black sharpie, the silly little name he'd given to it now a permanent label. Once, Dad had pointed out how it'd be harder to sell it now that Len had written all over it, and Len freaked out at the thought of losing his 'friend'. He'd cried in his room for half an hour, and Mom and Dad had to frantically explain to him that they didn't plan on selling it anytime soon. This all happened when we were 10. Rimi the keyboard is now adorned with stickers from concerts and the music store dad works at, and there's really no hope of selling it—her? —anymore.

Len was a keyboardist and vocalist, with enough knowledge of the guitar to fill in for the guitarist in his band, if need be. I only had experience with singing and vocals. While it was helpful in some ways to have that experience, it also meant I now had to practice changing my voice and vocal style when I sang, learn a whole new instrument, and master the basics of another. Once you consider that asking for assistance in any of this would raise suspicion, it almost seemed like mission impossible, the one flaw in my façade.

Shuffling through the sheet music I had to memorize, I found the 2 songs I wanted to focus on today. Taking a deep breath, my hands found their place on the monochrome keys.

_That piece I was playing earlier sure is a sharp contrast to the one on the radio now, huh?_

Tapping out the rhythm of that song against the counter while the cashier counted out my change, I stared down at a loose thread dangling from my hoodie. I wanted to pull it out, but I had to finish the chorus first. A craving for fresh air and cheap convenience-store candies had cut into practice time, after all. It didn't seem like I would be doing either thing right now, though; the cashier held out a handful of coins and bills—my change. I took it from him, grabbed my stuff, and left the store.

It was early afternoon, and people were walking in the streets, enjoying the last of the warmth as the summer season turned to autumn. Their talking and laughter filled the air as they walked around the shops on the streets. I almost wished I'd invited a friend out here with me; a text to Len's group chat and I probably could've gotten at least one person out here. I didn't know Kaito or Fukase that well, no, but I'd talked to them a bit when they came over with Len. They seemed nice enough.

"_Ahh, there's so many options! I need a little more time to decide, you can go ahead of me!"_

Looking up sharply as that familiar voice reached my ears, I saw I was passing in front of the ice cream stand in the area. Since they closed through fall and winter, there was a nice line of people waiting to get their last vanilla soft serve or banana split of the season. There was plenty of chatter amongst the customers, but the person whose voice I'd heard was standing towards the front, reassuring the person behind her that it was perfectly fine for them to go ahead. In fact, she insisted, she had to grab her wallet anyway. She was apparently a dollar short for the sundae she wanted.

"I'll be right back! Luka, Gumi, you'll hold our spot, right?" Turquoise pigtails bounced and fluttered as she jumped down from the platform she was standing on.

Whatever, I didn't have enough money for anything good. Plus, the line was only getting longer. I should continue heading home.

A warm hand was placed on my shoulder, and I swiveled around in surprise.

"Hey, Len! I'm glad I caught up with you!"

Miku had seen me. With traces of excitement in her voice, she inclined her head to one side like a playful puppy.

"It's a nice day out! Wanna get some ice cream with us?"

Author's Note:

I am so sorry you guys chose MY story out of all the others in the Vocaloid tag. It's been almost 2 months since the last update, and all you get is this all-over-the-place chapter to show for it. Nonetheless, she's here! I hope I can get chapter 3 out soon after this without leaving people hanging again!

Seems we're getting a glimpse of Rin and Len's past, huh? I'm sure some of you were curious about that. There'll be more in future chapters, but before that it seems Rin/Len has an invitation to deal with…


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